


Lucas's First Kiss

by WitchOfTheWestCountry



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Public Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 01:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchOfTheWestCountry/pseuds/WitchOfTheWestCountry
Summary: Some girls have made a bet, and the loser has to kiss Lucas, much to his disgust.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore the nature of Lucas's school life, and the possible truth behind Oliver

“Hey! Lucas!”

He was standing in front of his locker, just about to slide the key in, when he heard the commotion behind him: Shuffling feet and scattered giggles crowded at his back, and he’d been deciding to just ignore them when he heard his name in a shrill, female voice.

He sighed, hesitating, key in hand, wondering whether he’d get away with pretending he hadn’t heard.

“Luuc-asss!”

The voice was more determined now, drilling into his ears. He recognised it as belonging to Becky from his history class, a horse-faced, inbred bitch who loved to give him a hard time. What fresh hell had they devised for him now?

Lucas turned to face them – a gaggle of roughly 8 girls, jostling each other with pent-up excitement. They were all trailer-trash slutty with teased hair and tight denim, high-heels and hickeys. He wondered if they realised what clichés they were.

“Fuck d’you want?” he snarled.

Becky laughed, a squealing bray that matched her long, equine face. The fuck did her boyfriend see in her anyway? Lucas would bet anything it had mostly to do with her willingness to open her legs. He’d heard she’d taken more pricks than his mama’s old pincushion.

“Oh, it’s not me who wants you, Lucas. It’s Janine here!” said Becky, and with that she shoved a sullen looking girl towards him.

Janine stumbled slightly on her heels, but managed to stay standing. 

Lucas barely knew her, didn’t have any classes with her. He regarded her through narrowed eyes.

Her hair was a cloudy mess of brassy blonde, her overly-made-up face scowling at him even as her jaw worked constantly on a wad of gum, chewing like a dairy cow with its cud. She looked, to Lucas, like any of the other girls assembled to torment him.

Janine said nothing, merely glared at him with her arms folded under a pair of huge tits that threatened to spill out of the neckline of her cheap blouse.

“Well?” he demanded. “Fuck d’you want?”

Becky spoke up for her.

“Janine here lost a bet,” she said.

Lucas shrugged.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

The girls elbowed each other, hands over mouths as they giggled.

Becky’s face split into a cruel grin.

“She’s here to pay her penalty. Go on, now Janine – give Lucas his kiss!”

The crowd shrieked with laughter as Janine reluctantly stepped forward.

Horrified, Lucas tried to back away, only to hit the row of lockers behind him. From the corners of his eyes he could see a larger crowd gathering, people drifting into the hall to enjoy the spectacle of crazy Lucas getting kissed.

He opened his mouth to protest, but Janine was already there, now apparently determined to pay her debt in full. Her mouth closed over his wetly with a resolve that overpowered him. She tasted like last night’s spaghetti.

Lucas felt her hand against his chest, her fingers spread, pushing against him in an apparent effort to deter any attempt at intimacy, but she needn’t have worried – she disgusted him. Her tongue fell sloppily into his mouth, her jaw working with the same enthusiasm she’d spent on her gum, which she hadn’t bothered to remove. He felt it tumbling around in there, bouncing against his teeth.

Janine worked hard even if it was devoid of all passion, her lips rasping against the stubble around his own, opening and closing like a machine. The thought of letting his dick get caught in that grinding maw was terrifying.

The sound of cheering swelled around them, a savage, taunting sound that wouldn’t have been out of place at a Roman gladiatorial arena. The knowledge that everyone was watching and laughing bruised Lucas’s fragile ego, but despite this he found himself unable to push the girl away.

Janine wasn’t big. Lucas could have overpowered her easily – could have pushed her right off those heels she teetered on. Slut would have fallen over backwards the way her type always did for the popular boys, legs spread. But for some reason he let her continue, his shock warring with his revulsion.

He was being kissed by a girl. Vile as it was, he was getting something he’d never had before. So he stood there, trapped by a crowd of leering teens and his own libido as she mashed her face against his.

A sudden lessening of pressure telegraphed her intent to stop and as she began to pull away he had the presence of mind to lift one hand and shove it against her shoulder, pushing her backwards roughly.

Janine stumbled like he’d known she would, nearly falling.

“Get the fuck off me, you skanky bitch!” he snarled. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

The spectators gasped, giving him a brief stab of satisfaction. Janine’s face flickered between expressions, like one of those pictures that had fascinated him as a kid – the ones where the picture changed if you tilted it. Only the girl’s face wasn’t winking eyes or a leaping tiger – it changed from anger to hurt and back again as he watched.   
Very deliberately, Lucas lifted his arm and smeared the spit from his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie, his bright blue eyes slowly looking at the dismayed girl in front of him from the crown of her frizzy head to the scuffed toes of her shoes.

“Fuckin’ ugly slut,” he sneered, turning back to his locker.

His heart pounded in his chest, the blood climbing up his neck to stain his cheeks with a blush that was part embarrassment and part rage. Something hit him solidly between the shoulder blades – a small, balled fist - but though he winced internally he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of showing his reaction.

“How dare you, Lucas Baker!” shrieked Janine, her voice sounding on the edge of tears. “You dirty son-of-a-bitch! Who the hell....who the fuck....”

Janine started to sob.

Lucas grabbed his books from his locker and slammed it shut angrily. People were dispersing now the show was over, but Becky remained to console her friend.   
“Lucas Baker, you ain’t shit!” she spat. “You ought to count yourself lucky!”

Lucas turned, shrugging, refusing to look at either of them.

“Didn’t get nothing she ain’t given to dozens of others,” he remarked as he slouched away, hoping the baggy hem of his hoodie was covering the erection she’d given him.

 

The rest of Lucas’s day was spent in a welter of confused emotions. He felt like he was surrounded by a crackling black cloud shot through with red sparks that followed him everywhere. Though he tried not to notice the people around him, he occasionally caught a glimpse of that foul whore Becky, fawning all over her prickish boyfriend with a devotion that made him want to puke.

Voices muttered wherever he went - threats, laughter, repulsion. They were all talking about him, crazy Lucas who lived in the swamp, and Janine – poor Janine who’d had to kiss him in the hallway and had gotten abuse for her efforts.

Well, fuck them. Fuck them all to hell. He’d show them one day.

At one point Zoe tried to speak to him. News travelled fast in this shit-pit and she’d heard all about it, but he didn’t want her fucking sympathy. Even though they fought each other a good chunk of the time, she was still his sister and hated it went he got picked on. He couldn’t have borne her pity, though.

 

Lucas left alone at the end of the day, not waiting to walk home with Zoe. He needed to be alone with his wrath, to let his frustration unspool before him and follow its trail to a point where he could cope with his emotions.

Becky was by the gate, smooching with her boyfriend. Fucking Oliver. It had to be destiny that a bitch like Becky would end up with his childhood tormentor. He remembered the stories he’d written when he was younger, about his revenge on Oliver. He’d written some of them as diary entries, hoping to make them feel more real. In one he’d fed Oliver to the gators in the swamp at the back of the house. In another he’d locked him in the attic to starve to death. But no matter what Lucas had written, he'd go to school the next day to see Oliver there, grinning and gloating and alive. 

As his sneakers kicked up the road dust he daydreamed about building something. Some instrument of torture. Something with blades.

In his fantasy, he had all three of them – Oliver, Becky and Janine – tied up at his mercy. They’d be crying, he thought, maybe begging to be released. And then he’d show them what he had in store for them.

To survive, they’d have to betray each other. He’d ask them questions, maybe, that they’d have to get right. He thought about a guillotine that would slice off Oliver’s dick, but discarded that idea. Janine and Becky didn’t have dicks. They all had fingers though.

He imagined a metal bed he could strap their hands to, with five smaller guillotines poised over their fingers, ready to slice them off. That would work. And maybe not questions – that would require some book research, and he had no time for books. Maybe a card game...?

By the time he reached home, Lucas was calmer, almost humming in his good mood. The thought of revenge had soothed him so much that when his mother asked him how his day had been, he was able to respond in a normal tone of voice.

As he lay in bed that night he mulled his ideas over once more before tucking them away in the recesses of his mind. It was nice to pretend, but he’d never actually build something like that.

Probably.


End file.
